


everything blooming

by weatheredlaw



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Enthusiastic Consent, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Oral Sex, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Post-Canon, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Praise Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-17
Updated: 2017-10-17
Packaged: 2019-01-18 17:03:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12392334
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/weatheredlaw/pseuds/weatheredlaw
Summary: The ship was not a home, but aboard it he was healing, and for now, that was enough.





	everything blooming

**Author's Note:**

> more davenport character study, this time with sex! 
> 
> edit: the fic has [art](https://emthethotcake.tumblr.com/post/166541723372/a-lil-snippet-from-weatheredlaw-s-wonderful) by emthethotcake on tumblr!! thank you!!

_I miss you steadily, painfully._

 

* * *

 

The ship was not a home.

Davenport made his way up to the crow's nest early one morning, situating himself just so that he might watch the sunrise. He took his watercolors, a last minute gift from Magnus, and propped his sketching book on bent knees, eyes trained on the horizon.

The ship was not a home, but the sunrise could be his keystone. Without it he felt like the day could fall apart. His little cabin was now covered in bits of paper with watercolor smeared across it. Some days he could form coherent shapes, faces he recognized or places he'd been – others they were a mess of dark stains and unsettling silhouettes.

The ship was not a home, but aboard it he was healing, and for now, that was enough.

 

* * *

 

He'd left Merle behind, and he'd been in a state.

There was nothing between them as the sun climbed higher and higher that morning, save for the waves that washed up onto Merle's bare feet, and leaving a film of salt and sand on Davenport's new boots. There was nothing between them, he'd insist in the days that followed, even when Merle had reached down to hold his hands, lift them to his lips and just let them linger.

“I know why you have to go,” he'd said. “I...I know.”

There was no _but I wish you could stay._ There was no _maybe I should come with you._ Neither was brave enough or stupid enough to say it, and Merle couldn't leave. He had his children, his town – Davenport was just someone who had kissed him on a whim a hundred years ago, licked the wine from his lips and tangled fingers in his hair. Davenport was just his captain who'd taken every protocol and smashed it under his boots as he tipped further and further into Merle's orbit.

Davenport was the one who'd awoken from a decade of something like silence and stumbled down to the harbor and bought the first boat he saw.

Davenport was the one who'd broken down in Lucretia's office and screamed just because he needed to hear it.

And Davenport was the one who was running because the longer he stayed, the harder it was to breathe, the harder it was to feel his hands and his arms and his face – he was drifting further away from himself and maybe that wasn't such a bad thing, but –

he couldn't do it here.

He had to do it out there. One part of the world at a time.

So he let Merle hold his hands on the beach, and he let the waves wash up over his new boots – and then he let go.

And then he walked away.

 

* * *

 

They were sixty cycles in before Davenport realized what he was feeling.

He'd been so focused on what needed to be done, so focused on what the mission now entailed that he forgot to keep them in check. They were problematic, in that way. Caused more trouble than they were worth.

But they were his feelings, and they were clawing their way up and out of his chest and reaching for something – _someone._

And Merle kept getting in the way.

And so sixty cycles in Davenport realized Merle wasn't getting in the way so much as he was always there when Davenport felt like he _needed_ someone. So he reached out one day, and found Merle reaching back. And it was like _freedom_ – he was released from this box he'd trapped himself in. The walls came down and Davenport drank it all, he was a man pulled from the depths of the well, he was bruised and he was anguished and Merle poured and poured and _poured_ –

“Don't...tell anyone,” Davenport managed, as soon as the door to his cabin was shut and locked.

Merle only laughed.

“What's funny?”

“Oh, you know.” He leaned in, and they were nose to nose, Merle's thumbs were stroking his cheeks and Davenport shivered. “Everyone already knows.”

“...Oh.”

“Yeah. I'm not so good at hiding these kinds of things.”

“...I didn't know.”

Merle chuckled. “I think you did a little.”

“Maybe.” Davenport didn't want to talk anymore. They could do that later, they could do that whenever – right _now_ he was painfully wound, and he needed someone to unspool him, let him _go._

Merle gave him a nudge and Davenport tumbled onto his bed, laid back and stared up. Merle's face swam into view and Davenport grinned, yanking him down for another kiss.

“Did I hide it?” he asked, and Merle smiled.

“Nah,” he said. “I always knew.”

“Then why--”

“Because I knew it would be harder for you. And I want you to be the one to make the choice. It's not like I was goin' anywhere.”

Davenport nodded. “No,” he said, and let his hands wander over the buttons of Merle's shirt. He watched his fingers undo them, like they were good at this, like he had this talent.

The way Merle said his name that night, the way he sighed, the way his voice caught when he came later, as Davenport's hands worked their way over him – he wondered if maybe he did.

 

* * *

 

The sun came up as the ship sailed to port. Davenport put his book away and steered his girl in, docking her and paying the fee before heading into town. He'd wandered into the market, and it was bustling and alive. There were races here he'd never seen before, languages he'd never heard. It was like this in a lot of places – lizardfolk and saurials, moon elves and half-dragons. Folks he'd never thought he'd meet and here he was, sitting on the outside patio of a cafe and drinking the most amazing wine he'd ever had, talking to a half-dragon sailor and ordering a plate of oysters.

When he was alone, he set about answering his letters. Lucretia's was long and beautiful as usual. She gave him the details of the reconstruction effort, the world the bureau was doing in Neverwinter. She talked about the house Magnus was building and how he'd asked her to live with him. She talked about how she was feeling, how she missed him, how she hoped he'd forgiven her.

 _If I can be at peace at sea,_ he wrote back _, then you can find some on the moon I suspect._

Magnus sent him charcoals, Taako sent him some snacks. Lup and Barry sent a very nice jacket.

There was no letter from Merle.

He didn't think too hard on it.

Davenport wrote him anyway. He wrote about the ports and the ocean, about the sunrises and his watercolors. He wrote about how the solitude could be brutal, but liberating all at once. Davenport wrote about...peace, really. He asked Merle to talk to Lucretia, make sure she was alright. He asked about the kids, and Bottlenose Cove.

He did not ask if Merle missed him. Even though he wanted to. Even though he wanted to say he was sorry, that maybe the night they'd spent before he left was a mistake, maybe it needed to just be forgotten –

(he could recall every moment perfectly, every single touch and sigh and every little nip and bruise. maybe it had been a mistake, but davenport liked to lay out under the stars and think about the way merle could drag him over the edge and pull him back just as quickly, and he liked the think about how merle said his name and he liked to think about how he hadn't said _i love you_ , ~~but god he wished he had –~~ )

_I think of you often. This ship is no Starblaster, and it's certainly not a home, but it is a comfort. I am collecting sunrises. More than I ever thought I'd see._

~~_I love you, but I don't know how to say it._ ~~

_I will see you soon, I think. Within the year. I know that might sound like a ways off, but for us, it's only a moment, I think, after the century we had._

He took a breath. There was more, there was always more, but –

_Joyfully yours, Davenport_

 

* * *

 

“Excuse me?”

Davenport looked up from his book. He'd found a place to spend a few days, a quiet town that reminded him of Magnus – his inn was across the street from a furniture maker, and the whole street smelled of sandlewood and lacquer.

“Yes?”

An elven woman smiled. “Are you...well. This might be presumptuous, but...are you perhaps...Captain Davenport?”

He felt his muscles stiffen, and one hand twitched, thinking of the dagger at his side. “Perhaps--”

The elf held her hands up quickly, shaking her head. “No, no,” she said quickly. “I only...well we all heard the stories and I just...I thought I recognized you.”

“Oh.”

She smiled. “I only wanted to say thank you, for all you did.”

Davenport felt himself relax. “Well that...that's, ah. That's kind of you.”

“Your family,” she said quietly. “Everything you all went through.” Her hand fell onto his shoulder and Davenport flinched without thinking. She pulled back. “I'm sorry.”

“No, forgive me--”

“I should let you have your peace.” She looked skyward. “The gods know you each deserve it. I hope whatever you're looking for, captain, you find it.”

Davenport nodded. “Thank you. I appreciate that.”

“Of course.” The woman dipped her head and backed away.

It was not the first time he'd been approached, but it was one of a handful of times when it ended well. Sometimes...people were angry. Sometimes people were afraid. Sometimes people just wanted to know what he was, if he was real or not. People didn't always say thank you.

Davenport paid his bill at the inn and went back to the ship.

The ship was not a home –

but it was his.

 

* * *

 

Magnus was the one waiting for him when he came home for the wedding.

“Look at you!” he said. “You got all tan and stuff!”

Davenport grinned, hiking his bag further up before Magnus reached down and took it from him. “Mags--”

“Nah, you're cool, I got this.” He headed down the docks and toward a carriage. Angus sat in the back, a large book propped up against some boxes as he scribbled some notes. He waved as they approached.

“Welcome home, sir!”

“Hey, Angus.”

“We have a room all ready for you.”

Davenport looked between them. “You do?”

“Sure! I wasn't sure where you wanted to stay. Merle didn't...offer. Or say much.”

“Well I figured I'd stay at an inn or--”

Magnus snorted. “Don't be ridiculous.” He tossed Davenport's bag into the back with Angus and hauled himself into the front of the carriage. Davenport went around and did the same. “You're family. You'll stay with us. Merle'll probably be at the house with us anyway until Mavis and Mookie get here.”

“Is there room--”

“There's _always_ room for our captain,” Magnus said, nudging him gently with his elbow.

Davenport smiled. It felt good to be home.

When they finally made it to the house, Lucretia was working in one of the gardens on the side, having a conversation with a puppy who was chewing on her basket.

“That's _not_ a toy, Johann. Johann, I said _no._ ” She sighed and stood, wiping her hands on a pair of oversized workpants before she turned and saw them. “Hello!”

“Look who we found!” Magnus called out. Lucretia smiled and opened the gate to the garden, lifting the basket with the puppy inside it and meeting them halfway. She gave Magnus the dog and knelt down to hug Davenport properly.

“I've missed you, my friend.”

“I missed you, too, Lucretia.”

She pulled back. “You got quite a bit of sun. Are you hungry?”

“Starved.”

“Angus, honey, go inside and tell Taako that Davenport is here.” Angus nodded and took his things into the house. Lucretia stood. “We've got quite a full house on our hands,” she said, turning toward Magnus.

“That's _why_ I added so many rooms.”

“Yes, _I know._ You've mentioned this before.” Lucretia sighed. “Let's get you settled.” She took Davenport's bag from Magnus and began walking toward the porch. “Everyone's been excited to see you again. We can't wait to hear stories, I don't think the letters do your tales any justice.”

“I haven't done much.”

Lucretia shook her head. “You've been sailing the world. It's been _months_. I'm sure you've done and seen plenty.”

Davenport smiled. This was the happiest and freest he'd seen Lucretia in ages. Whatever she was doing, it was working.

They stepped into the house, the smell of baking bread hitting them right away. Davenport's mouth watered, and he heard Taako's laugh sing-song out of the kitchen as they came closer. Lucretia took the stairs instead, leading him away.

There _were_ an obnoxious number of rooms in the house, each with a little sign outside with someone's name. Lucretia found his, and turned the knob, gesturing for him to go in first.

Davenport stepped inside. Magnus had really outdone himself with the furniture and the windows. The room was absolutely perfect, floor to ceiling. He took his bag from Lucretia and walked the perimeter, nodding. “It's wonderful.”

“I'm glad you like it. Merle's room is just...just across the hall,” she added. Davenport looked up sharply. “I'm sorry.”

“Don't be.”

“He's missed you, I know he has.”

“He's only written twice.”

Lucretia sighed. “He's been very busy, you know this.”

Davenport shrugged. “It doesn't matter.”

“Doesn't it, though?”

He shook his head. “Not right now. Right now, Carey and Killian are getting married, and I'm with my family again.” He took her hand. “You seem happy.”

“I am.”

“That's good. You should be. Really.” Lucretia smiled. “Are you and Taako...”

“We're alright,” she said. “We've spoken a lot about it. There's been some recovery. It's not perfect, and it won't be, I hardly expect that, but we're...we're at peace with one another. That's all I can ask for.”

Davenport nodded. “That's good.”

Lucretia still seemed unsure, so he waited. She looked at him. “And you and I...we're--”

“We're alright,” he said, and kissed her hand. “We're alright, Lucretia.”

She visibly relaxed. “Well. _Well._ Let's, ah, let's go downstairs then, shall we?”

Davenport smiled. “Let's.”

 

* * *

 

In all honesty, he didn't see Merle much until after the wedding. The entire week was a haze of last minute planning and minor emergencies. Davenport didn't really relax until after Magnus's house had emptied out a bit. Eventually he was the only guest left, until Mavis and Mookie went back to their mother's house, and Merle showed up for dinner one evening, a bottle of wine in each hand.

Davenport was alone in the kitchen – Magnus and Lucretia were taking care of the dogs, Angus was upstairs reading. Merle stood at the end of the table and set down the bottles.

“Glad to see you on land, cap'n.”

“Glad to be on land.” Davenport smiled and took the bottles, setting them with the others. “You did a great job with the ceremony.”

“Oh.” Merle waved a hand. “It wasn't much. I was happy to help.” He grinned and took a seat. “So, how long do we get to keep ya?”

“Another week or so. I've got a few places on my map to hit before I'm finished.”

“Well, that's good to hear. Your boat alright?”

Davenport nodded. “She is.”

Merle sighed. “...Listen, I know I wasn't...good at writin' to ya, I know I promised I would--”

“-- _just don't think it's a good idea, Magnus._ ”

Merle chuckled. “The other twins are back.”

“Aw, come on, it's a great idea! Hey, Dav, wouldn't the house look great with a big bird's nest on top. Like your boat.”

“I don't see why not.”

Lucretia pointed. “No. Do not encourage him. We have a dozen other projects half-finished, just lying around this house, and you are not starting another.”

Magnus rolled his eyes. “You are the worst, you know that don't you?”

“I do.” Lucretia set down her basket, planting a hand on either hip. “Someone in this house has to be reasonable, and it can't keep being the thirteen year old.”

“Fourteen,” Angus said, coming into the kitchen.

“In _three months_ ,” Magnus snapped. “Don't get all full of yourself just yet, mister.”

Davenport smiled, watching his family trade barbs and tease one another. He felt Merle's gaze on him, and even though there were things between them that were hardly said, it still felt alright. Davenport sat next to him, reached over and took his hand.

“Are we okay?” he asked quietly.

Merle nodded. “Yeah,” he said. “We're okay.”

 

* * *

 

Eventually Angus went to rest his chin in his hand and fell asleep right there at the table, so Magnus announced it was time for bed, and hefted the boy up and into his arms.

“M'fine,” Angus muttered.

Magnus chuckled. “We'll see you guys in the morning. You stayin' Merle?”

“I think so.”

“Well, you know where your room is.” Magnus glanced over his shoulder. His expression was so soft, so open and _good._ Davenport was keenly aware of how much Magnus had lost, and he was surprised each time he found him there, ready to take on more, and perhaps lose just as much all over again. “Hey, cap?”

“Yeah.”

“It's really good to see you.”

Davenport smiled. “It's good to see you, too, Magnus.”

Lucretia stood and kissed them each on the top of their heads. “Goodnight.”

“Night, Lu,” Merle called after her as she followed Magnus up the stairs. He sighed. “Well.”

Davenport felt his nerves alight. “...Well.”

“Time for bed, I guess.” Merle stood and stretched, and Davenport did the same. They worked their way up the stairs and down the hall, standing between their rooms. The house was dark, now, but Davenport could make out Merle's silhouette just fine in the dark.

“Listen, Merle--”

“If you don't wanna talk--”

“I do,” Davenport said. “I...I really do.” He stepped closer, reaching out and taking Merle's face in his hands. “There's just something else I want to do first.”

Davenport kissed him. And with that kiss, he tried to do _so much._ He tried to tell Merle that he'd missed him, that he'd thought of him every day on the boat, that he regretted not kissing him sooner all those years ago. He kissed him until he needed to breathe, and then he leaned back in and kissed him some more.

“ _Dav--_ ”

“I love you,” he said. “I have _always_ loved you.”

“I know. _I know._ ”

“Go to bed with me,” Davenport managed. “ _Please._ We can talk later, we can talk for days if you want, but right now--” He felt Merle push him back toward his room, and the door feel open for them. Merle kicked it shut. “The night before I left--”

“Don't worry about it.”

“It wasn't right. I shouldn't have done that to you--”

Merle kissed him. “I was there. I wanted to be with you.” He smiled. “I don't do stuff I don't _like_ doin'. You know that.”

Davenport laughed. “I...yeah, I do. I just...it wasn't right. It was cruel--”

“You needed it, and I wanted to be with you.” Merle gave him a soft push and Davenport sat on the bed. Merle hooked a thumb under the hem of his shirt and yanked it over his head, tossing it aside. “Just like I want be with you now. Like I'll always want to be with you.”

Davenport swallowed. “Promise.”

Not a question.

“Yeah.” Merle reached out and lifted Davenport's chin. “I promise.”

It was a rush after that. Davenport tugged his shirt off and grabbed Merle's hands, pulling him into bed with him. He felt how hard he was through his pants, how much truth there was when he'd said he wanted him. Davenport didn't realize his own erection was growing more insistent until Merle's knee suddenly ground between his legs and he _yelped_ with surprise.

“Yeah, I figured you didn't want to talk much.”

“No pants.”

“Can do.” Merle managed to get both pairs off, tossing them to the floor with a flourish. “ _Tah-dah._ ”

“Dork.”

“You love it.”

“Yeah. I do.” Davenport pulled Merle down again and kissed him. With a steady hand he turned them, rolling Merle onto his back and sliding down to settle between his knees. “Next time, I'll be better prepared.”

“Yeah?”

Davenport nodded. “Next time, I'm going to let you get me ready.”

Merle gave a soft groan. “You sure you're not prepared right now?”

“Nope.”

“ _Damn._ ”

Davenport laughed. “You know what I want to do, don't you?” Merle nodded. “Just like I used to.”

“That was good, when you...when you used to--”

“When I used to do what?” Davenport put his chin in his hand and Merle scowled. “Go on.”

“You're a damn monster is what you are.”

“I'm just wondering.”

“You used to _ride_ me, and you're a monster because I thought of it all damn night at the table.”

“I bet you did.” Davenport dropped his head, pressing his lips against the cook of one knee. “Next time. I promise.”

“What're you—” Merle stiffened, let out a soft moan as Davenport drew his tongue up the length of his cock. “Alright. So _that._ ”

“Yeah. _That._ Done talking,” he said, and raised himself up to wrap his lips around Merle's cock, his hand gently gripping the base. Davenport took him slowly, remembering the way it used to be, how they used to lay in bed and do this for one another. How it could be _good_ for them. Merle exhaled, and Davenport heard his name, heard it come out like a plea, a prayer, _something._

But he didn't stop. He picked up his pace, stroking faster with his hand, feeling Merle's fingers fly up to tangle in his hair. He stopped. Pulled off.

“Don't you--”

“Tell me it's good.”

Merle groaned. “Of course it's good.”

“Merle. Tell me it's good.”

Merle looked at him, gave him a smile. “You just like to hear me say it.” Davenport shrugged and dropped his mouth again, taking him further this time, focusing on pushing him over the edge. “It's good, Dav. You know it's good. No one's ever been this good for me.” He let his his hand trail down, finger's tracing the point of Davenports ear. “You've always been good for me.” Davenport moved quicker. Merle's breath seemed to catch. “That's _good_ ,” he said. “That's _perfect._ Don't know what you do better. Fly that ship or make me feel like this--” Merle's hips jerked up as Davenport shifted his grip. “ _Damn_ \--”

Davenport pulled off again. “Close?”

“Yeah, yeah, don't _stop_ \--”

“Ask nicely.”

“Oh, you're the worst, you're _terrible._ ”

“Merle.”

Merle groaned, dropping his head back against the pillows. “Please, please, _please._ There. You happy?”

“Please _what?_ ”

“Please make me come--”

Davenport didn't waste anymore time. He opened his mouth, went down on him again. Merle swore, and that's all it was, a litany of curses and Davenport's name as he thrust his cock into Davenport mouth, one hand gripping the blanked underneath them, the other fumbling for Davenport's free hand, holding on tight as he swore loudly and thrust once, twice, and came with a groan.

Davenport held himself there, swallowed as best he could. Merle was staring at him. He must of looked lewd, spit and cum on his lips, panting and trying hard to focus.

Merle's expression softened and he pulled him up. “C'mere.” He swept a thumb over Davenport's mouth and kissed his forehead. “You okay?”

“...Yeah.”

“You need me to take care of you, don't you?”

“Just...just a bit.”

Merle nodded. “I can,” he said.

And Davenport knew – he absolutely could.

 

* * *

 

He was going to leave again, but Davenport took his things and practically moved into Merle's house for most of his time back home. When it was just the two of them they could be more open. Davenport liked the feeling of Merle pressing him against the kitchen counter and kissing him expansively, indulgently, until they wound up on the floor or back in bed. It made him feel _young_ , even though he was keenly aware that his younger self never had the moxie to let his boyfriend watch him stretch himself and then ride his cock until they were both begging for release.

Those were things he could do _now_ , without hesitation, because neither he nor Merle really cared much about what might have been considered appropriate for them to do when it was just the two of them.

One afternoon he was making tea and Merle came running up the path, threw open the door and shouted, “ _Dav!_ ”

Davenport ran to him, frantic. “What? What is it?”

Merle grinned, grabbed him, and kissed him right there. He pulled back with a flourish. “Just wanted to do that real quick. I've got a four hour budget meeting I gotta be awake for.”

Davenport gave him a shove. “You _scared_ me.”

Merle busted out laughing. “Okay, _okay!_ ” One more kiss and he turned around to jog down the path. He stopped at the end and winked.

Davenport's knees trembled.

 

* * *

 

In bed the night before he left, Davenport reached over and cupped Merle's cheek. “I'll be back.”

“I know.”

“I'm not leaving because I want to leave _you_ \--”

Merle sighed. “I know that, _too_ , don't worry about me.” He moved closer, tipping their foreheads together. “I just...I feel like we've finally figured... _us_ out. And now you're leavin' again.”

“I know, I'm sorry.”

“Eh, don't be.” Merle ran a hand through Davenport's hair, thumb tracing his brow. “I'll be alright, and you'll be back.”

“I will. This is my last trip.”

“Alone, anyway.” Merle shifted closer. “Next time, I wanna be there.”

“Okay.”

“Yeah?”

Davenport nodded. “Yes. I promise.” He pulled the blanket up higher, just under his chin. “You are the love of my formerly miserable life, Merle Highchurch. I will take you anywhere you want to go after this is over.”

“Conditional vacations, I love it.”

“Merle.”

“Alright, alright.” They settled, finally drifting to sleep. In the morning, there was coffee and there were delays. Eventually the delays had to end – Magnus and Angus were coming up the path, Taako and Kravitz close behind.

It was time to go.

“I'll...I'll write more,” Merle said. “I'll write more and I'll make sure you know how I feel, all the time.”

“I can't wait to read them.” Davenport said. He kept himself close to him, even as he heard his ship rocking in the waves behind him. “This week has been...”

“I know.”

“I wish I could stay in that bed with you longer...”

“Next time.”

“Davenport nodded. “Next time.”

Merle leaned in and kissed him again. Just...one last time. Before the ocean came up between them again. “Hurry back. But don't feel rushed,” he added. “See the world. Within a reasonable time frame--”

“I love you,” Davenport said. “I'm never going to find anywhere or anyone that makes me as happy as I am right now.”

Merle smiled. “That's the kind of stuff a guy likes to hear.”

“Good.” Davenport felt the waves come up, soaking Merle's feet. Leaving salt and sand on his old booths. “Because I'm going to say it for as long as you can hear.”

“And if I finally go deaf?”

“Then I'll write it down.” Davenport held him close. Merle shook a little against him. “Merle...”

“And if I can't see--”

“Then I'll find another way.” He tipped into Merle's space, foreheads touching. “I will _always_ find a way.”

They kissed. They laughed. But the world just kept going, and Davenport knew he needed to be off.

“I love you, Merle.”

Merle nodded. “I love you, too.”

 

* * *

 

The ship was not a home, but it was starting to feel something like it. And it was a lifeline, between the rest of the world and the part of it he'd left behind. He got a letter from Merle every couple weeks, telling him stories, complaining about visiting diplomats, explaining in detail all the things he was planning to do when Davenport came back.

Davenport saved each one. He put them away and, when he was feeling homesick, or far off – he pulled them out, and relished in Merle's handwriting, lost himself into the cadence of his voice that seemed to creep into the words.

 _Take the time you need_ , he wrote. _I'll be here. It's funny – I thought being so close to the ocean would make me miss you even more, but it doesn't._

_It's there to help us find our way back to each other. And I'm alright with that._

 

* * *

 

_Everything blooming bows down in the rain._

 

**Author's Note:**

> title and lines from the poem "heavy summer rain" by jane kenyon.


End file.
